


Blink

by OhMyViolet



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kidnapping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-01-15 12:12:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18498733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMyViolet/pseuds/OhMyViolet
Summary: Elliott always new fame came with a price. He just never suspected how much.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please read at your own discretion. The topic of rape, sexual assault and consent is something I strongly believe needs more attention, teaching and understanding. Sexual assault against men (in particular) is something very rarely spoken about and it often brushed under the carpet. I don't know what it's like in the rest of the world but where I'm from, raping of a man isn't covered by law so victims never really get the justice they deserve. Future chapters are going to deal with this so I can hopefully, shed some light on it.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/violetskye

If there was one thing Elliott loved, it was going to the grocery store. When he first got his full-time place on the roster, and took up residence in the Apex building he went exploring and found the fairly modest store. It became his regular spot, whether he actually needed groceries or just wanted somewhere to walk around after an intense game. The first few times he went there, he was met with whispers, gasps and nervous requests for photos by the people who worked there. They were used to him now, so instead, he would receive fond smiles or jokes about his performance. He liked coming here. Sometimes the mundane tasks like grocery shopping were welcome against the newfound celebrity status he'd found himself.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, as he walked home. This was one of those occasions where he didn't particularly need anything but just wanted to get out of his apartment. He stayed out later than he originally intended, after finding himself in an intense conversation with a cashier who was interested in joining the games. It was relatively dark now and for once, he was happy to be returning empty handed as both hands were free to find respite from the blistering cold.

“Mirage?!”

His name being called like this multiple times before, had trained him to plaster on his best smile. It was always a genuine one. He relished the attention. What he saw when he turned around struck a chord with him. A young boy, probably around 11 or 12 stood there nervously playing with the hem of his shirt. It always made him slightly uneasy when he met a young fan, knowing the nature of the games. It wasn’t in him to turn them away even if he knew they really shouldn’t know who he is.

“Hey little buddy. What are you doin’ out here on your own this late?”.   
The boy shifted his weight from one foot to the other, the grip on his shirt tightening.   
“Well I...I’m not on my…”.  
He grew silent, his gaze dropping to the ground. There was something not right about all this.   
Elliott lowered his voice and stooped down so he was at the boy’s level.  
“What’s your name? Where’s your parents?”.  
“I…”, the boy’s eyes flicked over Elliott’s shoulder, growing wide. “I’m...I’m sorry”.

The boy ran away as Elliott was grabbed roughly from behind, a strong arm wrapping itself around his neck while another grabbed at his abdomen to try hold him in place. Adrenaline kicked in, allowing him to attempt to fight back. He wiggled against the iron grip, trying to bend himself over endeavoring to flip his attacker over his shoulder. Failing, he settled for an aggressive kick in the shin. Focusing all his attention on the current scuffle, he failed to realise the other figures emerging from the dark. He was met with a swift kick to the back of both legs, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground. What he assumed, was a bag of some description, was thrown over his head, shrouding him in darkness.   
“H-hey what the fuck let me go”.  
His muffled pleas were greeted with a blow to the side of the head, knocking him out.

Elliott awoke a while later but he wasn’t exactly sure how long it had been. He tried looking around him, finding it hard to get his eyes to adjust to the dark. The banging pain in his head made it more difficult. He shifted his weight around, noticing for the first time his hands were bound behind his back. If he didn't feel so groggy he would have went into a full blown panic. Instead, he gave into his body's demands and slumped over completely, allowing his cheek to rub against whatever itchy carpet he was lying on.

Muffled voices disturbed his induced slumber sometime later.   
_“What the fuck did he give him? He's been out for hours”._  
 _“How should I know? We're running out of time”._  
Elliott's head swam as he hauled to his feet by two pairs of large hands. The sudden deprivation of gravity made him feel sick and dizzy. However, through his daze, something in the back of his head told him this wasn't quite right and he should probably be questioning the situation he was now in.   
“W-where am I?”, his voice was dry and croaky.

He was dragged into another room, a few doors down from his previous location. The short journey gave him time to admire the peeling paint and occasional yellow stains on the walls. The new room was almost as dim as the previous, save for the tiniest red light in one corner and what looked like an old bedside lamp in another.

Maybe it was the way his jacket was forcibly dragged off his shoulders, or maybe it was whatever substance he was given beginning to leave his system. Something caused his brain fog to lift and he was suddenly very aware that his current situation was far from ideal. His eyes darted around the room, finding three men with dark masks covering their faces staring back at him. Instinct told him to back away, to get out of this room, to run as fast and as far as he could. A hand clamped down on his shoulder, stopping him. He racked his brain for anything that may diffuse the awful tension hanging over the room.  
“I, uh...I gotta say, this is the weirdest meet and greet I've ever been to”.

One of men cocked his head slightly, which caused the men behind Elliott to leap into action. Grabbing one of his arms each, they began to rush him towards a bed, which he hadn't noticed before. He fought back against their grip and almost wiggled free until another masked man joined in the chaos. Between the three of them, they managed to wrestle him onto the bed, his head facing the foot of it. His face was shoved firmly into the mattress, stopping him from fighting against the ropes that were being tightened around his wrists, securing him to the bed.

He swore his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He wasn't going to be able to talk his way out of whatever this was. His breaths became shallow and more rapid, pining for oxygen but only receiving the musky scent of the mattress below him. Eventually the pressure on the back of his head was lifted and he could breathe again. He tugged on the ropes for a moment, causing him to hiss quietly as the rough material chafed his skin.

“Can't we talk about this?”, he eventually choked out. “Is this some sort of kidnapping? Ransom? I have money. Is...is that what you want? Money?”.  
Someone from behind him chuckled.   
“Don't worry. We'll get our money”.

His jeans were roughly unbuttoned and dragged down his legs, letting the icy air bite at his skin. The reality of what was about to happen began to sink in as his underwear followed.   
“Wait! Wait! Just tell me what you want! I'll...I can…”, he racked his brain desperately for something he could offer but inevitably came up short.  
Something stirred behind him.  
“Actually, there is something you can do”.  
Elliott’s heart jumped at this. This new sense of hope almost diminished the humiliation he felt from having his bare ass exposed to a group of terrifying strangers.   
“W-what is it?”.   
A rough hand found its way into his curls, yanking his head back, causing his back to arch into an uncomfortable angle and the restraints on his wrists to dig further into his skin. The man brought his masked mouth to Elliott’s ear, while his free hand forced a small switchblade against his throat.   
“You’re gonna shut your whore mouth before I get one of my boys to shut it for you”.   
“But…”.  
His hair was yanked back harder, making him yelp.  
“I could kill you. Don’t you realise that? Or are you really as dumb as they make you out to be on TV?”.  
Elliott swallowed against the blade. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how he was meant to go. Not the most glamourous but he knew the Apex publicity team would come up with something to cover the real story.   
“Then do. Kill me”.  
The man and a few others laughed.  
“Where’s the fun in that?”.

Elliott’s eyes became muddy with tears, as his freedom was denied. His hair was suddenly released, allowing his head to flop back onto the stained mattress. There was nothing he could do. It didn’t take long for the men in the room to shuffle around positions, one of them deciding he would be the one to get things moving while the others secured the legend’s legs. Elliott choked back a sob, as he was forcibly entered, the lower portion of his body panging with pain. No-one had taken the time to prep him. It's not like they cared to give him that courtesy.

As his body began to feel numb and his mind began to wander, his gaze landed back on the tiny red light in the corner of the room. It was so small, he almost forgot it was there. He stared into it. It was flashing now. Despite his head beginning to feel fuzzy, he began to count.

1

Blink

2

_Blink_

3

_**Blink** _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof...This be stirring up some suppressed emotions in ya girl.
> 
> https://ko-fi.com/violetskye

Cold.

_Cold._

**So cold.**

Elliott’s fingers twitched back to life, despite their aching numbness. His eyelashes fluttered in an attempt to shield him from the bright light that invaded his vision. He dragged himself to sit up when he realised he was sprawled over the side steps outside the Apex building. It wasn’t the first time he’d woken up here. Back in the day, himself and Gibraltar had gotten into trouble with the people upstairs over their excessive partying. After a particularly long night of drinking, Elliott had found himself waking up in a nearby flowerbed, surrounded by security with several angry emails from the managing director in his inbox.

Those days were behind him now and this time, his stomach felt queasy for an entirely different reason. It was as if his body was waiting for its cue to alert of of how much pain he was in. His lower body flared with discomfort as he adjusted himself to sit on the step. He ran a stiff hand through his hair, finding it damp and lacking it's signature curl. It was only when he pulled his hand away and he caught sight of the angry purple marks on his wrist, did he realise why he was really here. His chest grew tight as if the weight of the world itself was set on him.

“Over there!”, a voice called out, startling him. Gibraltar and Lifeline were rushing towards him. Elliott winced as he stood up to meet them. His body felt like it’d been run over by a truck. It could have been for all he knew, his head still felt fuzzy. He tried to think of a reason to explain why he was out here but as the two other legends approached him, he no longer felt the need. The way they looked at him was enough. Makoa eyed him with a mixture of disbelief sympathy, looking like he wanted to say something but was holding back. Ajay, on the other hand, looked like she’d be crying. They all stood staring at each other for a few moments, before Elliott made an attempt to speak.  
“Guys...what…”. He trailed off. He wasn’t entirely sure what he wanted to ask.  
Makoa let out a long sigh. “Brutha...Shit, we were worried”.  
“I’m letting them know. We should ‘ead up stairs”, Ajay said, typing something into her phone, and began walking towards the main entrance before anyone could suggest otherwise.

The elevator ride to top floor was probably one of most torturous things Elliott ever experienced. Besides the obvious of course. Makoa and Ajay seemed to be actively trying to not make eye contact with him, occasionally sneaking looks at each other before quickly looking away. The only noise to be heard was the wiring of the elevator, as it spurred them upwards. Elliott swore the others could probably hear his heart almost beating out of chest. What was this all about? All he wanted to do was go home, have a scalding shower, then lock himself away until hopefully everyone forgot about him. Whatever influence he was under was beginning to wear off, and that fuzzy feeling began to go with it. The relief was only momentary. As he found himself regaining full control of his senses, he also found himself regaining vivid memories of what happened to him. It was like someone opened the floodgates and suddenly the elevator was feeling a lot smaller than before.  
The ding of the elevator, signalling they’d reached their destination startled him, despite it being his saving grace out of the confined space. Walking into the managing director’s office didn’t do much to quell his anxiety. All of the other legends were there, each immediately stopping any conversations they were having when Elliott walked in, making the room eerily quiet. A glance at the large clock on the wall revealed it was early morning, which made sense considering everyone was dressed in either sleepwear or extremely casual clothing.

It wasn’t long before the managing director stepped into the room followed by one of his many assistants. Victor Olsen, despite getting on in his years, was still as charming and level headed as he’d ever been. He was the type of man, who drew the attention of a room when he stepped in and was always known to keep up appearances, typically sporting a lavish designer suit of some kind. He was firm but fair, with the legends, seeming to know them all on a personal level, despite spending very little time with any of them. You couldn’t tell by looking at him but, even he was struggling to keep his composure. In all his years of working in business, HR and various management roles, he’d never been faced with a situation like this. He toyed with the button of his suit jacket, thoughtfully, trying to choose an approach.

“Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining us on such short notice”, Victor spoke, all business as usual. “Elliott, I’m beyond relieved to have you safely back where you belong”.  
Elliott just nodded in response. He still wasn’t sure what this was all about but he was afraid to ask. He knew in his gut that whatever the reason was, he wasn’t going to like it. His eyes flicked to Makoa, but the larger man refused to meet his gaze, opting instead to shuffle around on his feet awkwardly. His attention was eventually pulled back to Victor as he spoke again.  
“I’m hoping we will be able to work as a team here, and come up with an appropriate solution for this situation”.  
“I got a solution for ya. It’s called fist one and fist two”, Anita responded, cracking her knuckles.  
Victor sighed. “Please, Miss Williams. We do not need the reputation of this organisation soiled further through vigilante efforts”.  
Elliott watched Gibraltar rest his head in his hands, as the room began to erupt with the voices of the other legends arguing amongst themselves either in favour of Anita’s idea or against it. He noticed Octane hanging around the edge of the room, not participating in the arguing but looking pleadingly at Makoa, who was now watching the situation unfold through fanned fingers.

Elliott wasn’t sure how much more of this noise he could take. He wanted to get whatever this meeting was over and done with, so he could leave and go hide in his apartment forever. There was no way he was going to get any answers at this rate.  
“Guys”, he called out, making a weak attempt to cut in but to no avail. He clenched his sweaty palms into fists, growing increasingly more frustrated at the noise.  
“Can someone tell me what the fuck this is about?!”, he found himself shouting, his voice ringing loud enough to bring the room back to that eerie silence from before. Everyone turned to stare at him for a moment before turning their attention to Gibraltar. Makoa rubbed a hand over his forehead, obviously uncomfortable at all the attention he was now receiving.  
“I...I couldn’t tell him. I’m sorry Elliott, I just…”. Ajay placed a comforting hand on the man’s shoulder. Elliott’s stomach began to do flips. He clenched his fists tighter, digging his nails into his palms.  
“Tell me what?”.

A thick blanket of tension draped over the room, with his question. It stayed quiet for too long. He was about to ask his question again, before Wraith stepped forward with a sigh.  
“Don’t you think he’s been tortured enough?”, she cast a disapproving look at each individual in the room. “You might want to sit for this”.  
Elliott folded his arms defensively. “I can stand”.  
“Alright”, she clasped her hands together, and Elliott swore it was the first time he’d ever seen her unsure of her intentions. “Well, there’s no doubt about it you’ve had a tough three days. We know what happened to you. And, well, everyone else does too. It’s been all over the news”.  
“W-wait...w-what...how?”, he stammered, his breath hitching with every word, as if he as just punched in the chest and slapped in the face all at once.  
Anita cracked her knuckles again. “Somehow the press got pictures. Sick bastards”.  
“And, to add to all that…they're spinning it as a sex scandal”.  
Elliott let out a shaky breath. Three days? Pictures? How could they...blinking light. It couldn't be. How does one even begin to process something like this? He swallowed hard. His throat felt so dry.  
“Does that mean you don't believe it?”.  
Anita, Wraith, Ajay and Caustic shared a look, but again, Wraith was the one to speak up.  
“At first...yeah, maybe I thought it was...I don't know, whatever it is you get up to with your fans. But then…”.  
“But then, you didn't come home”, Octavio added, speaking up for the first time. It wasn't like him to stay quiet for so long. “Upstairs called the police, and turns out someone already reported an attack on the street, matching your description. Didn't take much for us to put it all together”.

There was one person who hadn't spoken up yet, and as feelings of uncertainty, fear, disbelief and anger began to pool together in the bottom of his stomach, Elliott was adamant on hearing their side of the story.  
“You knew?”, he asked, voice quivering as he turned to face Makoa fully, not allowing the other man to resist eye contact any longer. “You knew and you didn't say anything!”.  
Makoa held his hands up defensively. “I wanted to tell you…”.  
Elliott stepped forward, reaching forward and grabbed the fabric of Makoa's shirt in his fist.  
“You moth-motherfu- ...fucker, you're supposed to be my best friend and you keep all this shit from me?!”.  
Makoa grabbed firmly onto Elliott's wrists, trying to coax him into loosening his grip.  
“Elliott, come on. This isn't you”.  
“Well, it turns out we don't know each other as well we thought”, the trickster seethed in return.

It was then, some of the other legends decided they had outstayed their welcome, and began filing out of the room.  
“All right, that's enough break it up you two”, Victor said, clapping his hands together, as if he was trying to grab the attention of two fighting dogs.  
Elliott didn't budge, until Anita stepped in, grabbing his arms and mumbling something into his ear in attempt to calm him down.  
“He deserves it!”, Elliott protested, as he was wrestled away.  
“Look me in the eye and tell me you'd have the strength to tell me that, if I was in your position, brutha”, Makoa said gently. He was distraught when the others began speculating about where Elliott might be and if they'd ever see him again or not. He was a kind man, there was no way he could've brought himself to deliver that kind of news to his best friend, knowing full well it could tip him over the edge.  
“Fuck you! Don't call me that!”, Elliott shouted, as he fought himself out of Anita's iron grip. “You're not a brother to me. Not anymore”.


End file.
